A lot of posts here seem to be from men who were blindsided by their wives and are trying to figure out how to start again. Or whose wives cheated on them and now they have to figure out how to leave. Things like that. Men whose relationships have come to an end due to no fault of their own. I have nothing but sympathy for these men. The betrayal and heartbreak that you all have experienced is immeasurable.

This is something different.

I (27m) have been with my wife (26f) since we were 16m and 15f. We got married 5 years ago.

My wife is a fantastic woman, loves me very much, and contributes more than her share to the marriage whether it be financially, emotionally, around the house, you name it. She's gorgeous, and I don't just mean in the way you can look at someone after 11 years and find everything about them beautiful (but, that too.) She is simply, objectively beautiful, in the way that others might envy my luck. She's a purely selfless individual, motivated to help others in any way that she can, sometimes to her detriment.

Me on the other hand...

Our relationship and subsequent marriage have been fraught with issues entirely caused by me. I have been a serial adulterer, porn addict, and chronic substance user. It's been difficult for me to hold down a steady job due to issues concentrating, depressive episodes, drug use, etc. If there is a source of instability in the relationship I am to blame. I'm selfish. I throw tantrums. I crumple like wet toilet paper at minor hardship.

From ages 6 to 26 I have been diagnosed with multiple comorbid mental disorders. The list includes obsessive-compulsive disorder, substance use disorder, major depressive disorder, and autism spectrum disorder. There may be more yet. As life went on, these got worse.

As far as I'm concerned I am essentially a child that my wife has to take care of.

I have been abstinent from drugs and pornography for over one year, and from adulterous behavior for at least two years. Any secrets I might have once kept from her, I have since shared with her. With each time that I relapsed, chased someone else, found myself at new lows, she met me where I was at and helped me back on my feet.

She has been relentless and unwavering in her pursuit to keep our marriage going. And I simply haven't been. I have never been.

Additional incompatibilities have reared their ugly heads -- on the topic of children, while I once was open to the idea, I now realize that the strong genetic component of my specific diagnoses (and hers) would mean that my children would likely suffer in the same way that I have. She doesn't think this idea holds water. I think she is optimistic to a fault. I think she wants a life with a version of me that will never come to pass.

Abstinence is one thing. Becoming someone else is another matter. I haven't gotten there. I'm not sure I ever will. And so I have to ask: am I the one who has to walk away, before I completely destroy someone who can still live up to her full potential, who can still remarry, start a family, live a proper life?

Throughout this period of sobriety and self-reflection I realized that I used substances and affairs as a crutch. What I have discovered is that due to the nature of my mental illnesses, the persistent fatigue and anguish that they cause, I am not suited to the kind of life I attempted to build for myself and my wife.

What I have created is something unsustainable. After all, the next bout of autistic burnout, or depression, or constant intrusive thoughts, will inevitably cause my work output to drop, as it has done in the past, threatening my job, threatening the very existence of this life. And for once in my life I completely refuse to lean again on these old crutches that enable me to engage in even more self-destructive behavior.

I am in talk therapy. I recognize that I will need to be in talk therapy for the rest of my life. It will help me manage and cope, but I don't think it will change me. I talk at length about these things with my therapist. I am fully open and honest with my therapist.

What's really ironic is how so many would actually envy to have the things that I have. A house that I can call my own. A great job with a startup making more than most. A beautiful wife who tells me every day that she loves me. And I'm simply confused and overwhelmed every day.

I know I come off ungrateful. I always have, even since I was a kid. But the truth is that I'm perpetually overwhelmed. There is no way for me to enjoy anything in this state unless I am removed from the stimuli that overwhelm me. And the more overwhelmed I am by the obligations of my daily life, the harder it becomes to fulfill them, and the more overwhelmed I become.

The "medication lottery" that I have been undergoing for many months is not providing any kind of solution either. This is the process that my medication manager has been putting me through, essentially making guesses as to which pills might help me continue to prop up my life. Which medications might help me produce more consistent work output, or be less prone to wildly changing mood states, or what have you. Most of these medications have produced side effects that are in some cases worse than the underlying mental health conditions they are meant to treat.

If she has any shot at starting a family, having a stable relationship, and a normal life...

If I have any shot at taking a step back and making real progress in my mental health journey...

It's time to part ways. I can't keep putting her through this. I can't keep putting myself through this.

We own two properties and a few vehicles together, as well as two cats. Regardless of the fact that we have equally invested time, money, sweat... I think she deserves full ownership of everything. If nothing else she would be able to divest of these assets and have plenty of cash to start again.

Today I bought an old used car with a bit of cash. If I'm going to start over I am comfortable doing it with almost nothing. In fact I almost think that will be easier for me to manage. I will keep doing my job, too, (it's remote!) at least for as long as it takes to settle everything and keep the lights on for her.

I will stay with friends and family, paying them whatever they think is fair to let me sleep on their couches.

And then? I will try for disability, working part-time, so I can spend almost 100% of my time untangling my own mind. Working with professionals. Staying clean. Not throwing myself back into the dating pool. Maintaining healthy, open, honest friendships. Doing everything in my power to prevent this from ever happening again. Living well below my means.

And then I hope she can meet a man who can devote himself entirely to her, the way I have failed to do.

All forms of criticism are welcome, and are likely warranted. I'm not looking for sympathy. I only hope to provide a different kind of story and a different perspective.